


Sharp and Pretty.

by LaFemmeDarla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaFemmeDarla/pseuds/LaFemmeDarla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela receives a job offer too good to be true. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharp and Pretty.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age Reverse Big Bang. Based on [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/899065) lovely art piece by sqbr.

**Château Le Touzé. Now.**

"Run!"

So much for not drawing attention to themselves.

It's not hard to make their way through the hall. Isabela takes the front, ready to slice through anything that gets in their way while Leliana keeps her bow and arrow at the ready on the back. 

They just need to reach the stables, get a hold of the fastest horse and get out, but since when have things gone exactly as planned? They take a sharp turn to the left, the fastest route to their destination, only to be greeted by the sight of a dozen heavily armed men.

The girls stop and look at each other.

"The gardens," Leliana says. 

"Good idea," Isabela replies as they resume their running, this time in the opposite direction.

As far as plans gone awry, this one hasn't gone so bad - no major injuries and they had what they had come for. Now they just needed to make their way through the angry guards and deadly traps without dying or losing any limbs.

"This way," Leliana says as she takes Isabela's and hand leads the way towards the maze. Isabela almost stops.

"But isn't..."

"Yes, but I suppose we will have to risk it."

Isabela smiles. "I like the way you think."

 

* * *

**The docks. One day ago.**

A pirate's life on the sea is a never-ending adventure that sometimes gets interrupted by a particular gruesome raid.

Oh, Isabela had known it would be a hard one. When Fenris had come to her with the information he had warned her that this particular group had a few dangerous mages among their unsavory crew. But taking them would severely cripple a certain slaver’s trade not to mention the nice booty to be had and she was sure the risk would be worth it. And from a certain point of view, it had been a success: the ship had been taken down, the slaver crew killed, the slaves saved and the booty taken.

But now, as Isabela stands on the docks of Val Royeaux and watches her crew work on the main mast - or what's left of it, anyway - of her beloved ship, she wishes it had been a little less adventurous. Even from this distance she can see Lars, her first mate, shouting orders and trying to keep everyone in check. She can't blame the men - they're cranky and exhausted and even the promise of some free time in Antiva once they can sail again may not be enough to keep them out of trouble.

The woman standing next to Isabela holds a delicate handkerchief to her face, clearly eager to get away from the docks as soon as possible, but not before insuring Isabela’s aid.

"So will you do it?" she asks, her voice slightly muffled by the lacy fabric.

"I told you I would think about it, Jeannette" Isabela replies. The other woman shakes her head.

"There's no time, Isabela!” she says, perhaps a little too loud. She moves closer and lowers her voice as she continues to talk. “The party is tomorrow night and my client needs an answer today. It's a lot of coin for one simple job."

That is true. And they could really use that coin. But when something sounds so good to be true, it usually is. Then again, after the raid, fighting Orlesian nobles would be a welcome break. 

"Fine, I'll do it. Just tell me who I am supposed to meet inside."

"Oh my client said you would know when you saw her." Her voice has risen in her excitement. "I shall contact the client and will have the invitation delivered by today!" She starts walking away without waiting for a reply and Isabela can hear her squeak loud and pick up speed, clearly startled by the man that comes to take her place next to Isabela.

"How bad is it?" Fenris says. She doesn’t have to look at to know he’s frowning at the sight.

"Worse than it looks, really," she answers. "We need to replace the main mast, patch the hull and give it a new coat of paint but it will be good as new in a couple of weeks." 

From the corner of her eye she sees him narrow his eyes, but before he can start with the apologies she says, "I need to go for a day, maybe two. An old contact offered me a job." Under different circumstances she would invite him to come along, but a place filled with snotty Orlesians that could annoy him easily might draw too much attention. "If you are in no hurry to take the next ship away, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sticking around, giving Lars a hand?"

After everything blew – literally – and they all went their separate ways, Varric and Fenris were the only two Isabela ever managed to keep in touch with. Varric sends jobs her way and Fenris sometimes travels with her. They keep her informed of the others too – or as much as they can, given the circumstances. 

Fenris gets alone with the crew well enough but Isabela has never asked him anything like this – staying around while she is gone. 

There is a long pause before Fenris replies. "I don't think they would appreciate me getting in the way."

"Nonsense! The guys like you. But I had to grease a lot of hands to get everything I need to have the ship fixed so soon and while the boys know to behave when I’m not around, I could use someone that wouldn't let them go too crazy on their spare time. Lars is good, but he doesn't inspire as much..."

"Fear?"

"Respect. I was going to say respect. But a little fear is healthy."

He nods. "I suppose I could delay my departure a few days. I do need to wait until my sword is fixed."

"Excellent! I'll go tell Lars before you change your mind," she starts heading towards the boat.

"Isabela?"

She stops and turns. "What is it?"

"This job isn't... this is not another Qunari relic, is it?"

She laughs. "You really think I would risk it after all that trouble?" She walks away before he can answer that.

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. Now.**

Always to the right. That's the secret to finding your way through mazes. But most fancy Orlesian mazes don't have... what this one has. Not to mention the guards they're trying to shake. And so every time they turn, they listen carefully.

"I still think we should have just set it on fire," Isabela whispers. Leliana raises an eyebrow.

"That would have been a little less discreet."

"It's not as if we got out quietly."

"Maybe if you hadn't..."

A low growl in the distance freezes them in place. So close.

Isabela bites her lip. "Alright, perhaps we should focus on staying alive and argue about this later."

"That would be prudent,” Leliana agrees.

* * *

**The Siren's Call II. One Night Ago.**

She had not been exaggerating about the many greased palms. Most of what they had made on that last raid had gone into bribe money and resources. When Jeannette, an old contact from the days Isabela still had the first Siren's Call, had come forward with a shifty proposal, Isabela had been more than ready to at least listen to it. She had almost rolled her eyes at said proposal, remembering the last time she had gone into an Orlesian household to steal something with Hawke. Or that time with the Tome that started all that trouble in Kirkwall. Of course, this job doesn't involve the Qunari at all - hopefully.

"What exactly is this job?" Fenris asks that night as he helps her get ready. Her clothes are not what she's used to wear - they cover a lot of skin and there are pants and everything! - But they do allow her to conceal more daggers than usual, so tonight they have a dress rehearsal. Her gold necklace and earrings are put away, replaced by more delicate hoops and some ruffles on her neck and chest that make her feel strangely bare. Isabela looks at her reflection in the cabin's mirror and adjust the ruffles before speaking.

"The Comte de Manchut likes to collect rare and pretty things, sometimes through less than savory means. My friend Jeannette has a client who is very interested in acquiring of those rare and pretty things, a jewelry box that belonged to some past empress or something. I just have to get in, meet someone on the inside for more information, get the box and get out."

"And you are certain this box is not a..."

"For the last time, it is not a Qunari relic. No Qunari are involved in this."

He raises an eyebrow and she laughs. “Let’s make a bet, Fenris. Five sovereigns the Qunari are not involved in any way.”

"You’re on. Still sounds too easy."

"I know. Which is why I need you to strap an extra dagger over here."

He approaches with a belt and the dagger. "I could come with you," he says. 

"Thanks, but I need you here, making sure the coin I make on this job will be coin I won't have to spend afterwards paying my men's bail." 

He shakes his head but helps her in silence. Once the last dagger is in place she takes a step back and spreads her arms. "How do I look?"

"You look fine."

She knows what he means, but she cannot help to laugh. "You missed your call. Perhaps you should be the one writing long paragraphs of friend fiction."

He laughs as well, the tension of the room diminishing. He sits on the bed while she has a good look at herself in the mirror, making sure no dagger shows no matter how she moves or bends. Once she is satisfied she sits next to him and picks up her boots.

"Remember the last time we dealt with Orlesians?" she asks casually.

"You mean when we had to help a Qunari and fight wyverns? It was a very memorable party.

"Don't forget the part where I got three crew members."

"They're hard to forget."

And probably getting drunk as Isabela gets ready.

Her eyes fall on the invitation lying on the table. The Orlesians just have to make everything twice as complicated. She stares at the heavy cream paper, the elaborate writing crowned with the silhouette of Château Manchut on crimson ink. For an Orlesian residence, it's rather small, even if some might consider it large enough to be a castle. She traces the Château's towers with her index fingers.

"If everything goes right, we should be sailing to Antiva in a couple of weeks, much much richer."

“We don’t have a history of everything going right.”

“Shush. Don’t distract me with your logic.”

 

 

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. 4 hours ago.**

Getting in is easy. No one gives her invitation more than one perfunctory look. She is not the only woman wearing trousers and the others' getups are certainly fancier. Good, this is not about calling attention to her perfect self. Not this time anyway.

The ball is being held outdoors and just as frilly and Orlesian as she expected. People 

She picks bits and pieces of conversation as she goes, some of them even mention the Champion. None of them have the story right. Some details she recognizes and things Varric wrote about. Looks like her old friend is doing his best to spread the story while keeping them safe with false details. Always good to know you can count on some things to stay the same. If only she could say the same about this job. The large clock at the end of the garden tells her the mysterious individual she is supposed to meet should be here anytime soon.

She takes a glass from a passing tray and examines her surroundings while she takes a sip. The party is being held on one half of the vast gardens of the mansion. The area is filled with elaborately trimmed bushes and surprisingly tasteful statues. At the very end of the garden stands a tall maze that occupies at the very least half of the gardens. It’s the only area off-limits.

Nothing out of the ordinary yet. A small delay is nothing to be worried about, but then again, she has yet to see the catch of the job. She is pondering her options when she hears a dimly familiar voice say her name.

And there is the catch.

Her heart beats fast but she face betrays no distress as she turns and faces the woman. They have met three times before and although she has very good memories from the first and a smile from the second, she still remembers the warning and the implications of the third.

"Sister Nightingale," she says, her voice merely a whisper - this is Orlais after all and even the shubbery has ears. "It has been a while."

"Indeed," Leliana replies. She is wearing a mint green gown, not as elaborate as others Isabela has seen around, but still quite pretty and very good to conceal a multitude of weapons.

Near them, a short, stocky man who clearly has had too much to drink already comes stumbling towards them, his lewd eye on Leliana. Before he can get any closer Isabela has taken Leliana's hand in hers. 

"May I have this dance?" she says already leading the way to the dance floor. They glide with ease among the other couples, even better than most couples actually. After all, they are rogues, made to move like the sea and the wind. Isabela's hand moves low, checking for weapons and unable to conceal a smile at the memory of their first meeting. She counts three small knives and one dagger on the bustier alone. Impressive. She can feel Leliana doing just the same – quite thoroughly in a very subtle way. Anyone watching them – and there’s a few – would only see two girls enjoying each other’s company. 

Just when a quick glance assures her they're out of earshot does Isabela finally speak.

"I knew this job was too easy."

"Would you have come to me if I had revealed my identity to you?” Leliana asks as if it's the most natural thing in the world. “If Jeannette had told you the ‘client” was a Seeker, albeit one you knew?" 

"You know I wouldn't have. But you are mistaken if you think I have any information you could use."

"I'm not here because of the Champion."

"Good, because I have no idea where she is."

"Oh, you don't? I find that hard to believe. I..."

"Why don't we cut to the chase?" Isabela interrupts. With every spin and every step she has risked glances into the crowd. With every touch she has remembered that wonderful time on her ship - and checked for ever more weapons. She won't have as many Isabela's of course. Bards are a little more subtle, but they're still deadly.

"I'm alone," Leliana says.

"But armed," Isabela points as she presses her body against Leliana's. Yep, at least two daggers over here.

"So are you. But I'm not here to fight you."

"Then why do this?"

"Because I need help and I heard you were in the city. Please hear me out before you make any decisions."

Isabela sights. "You have one minute to convince me, but I want the truth."

"Very well. Here's what I can tell you: there is indeed a stolen box, but not what you think."

Oh shit. "It's not a Qunari relic, is it?"

Leliana arches an eyebrow. "What? No! But as I was saying, I do need the box. And for that, I need your help."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. But the room where the box is has many complicated traps. I need someone with a keen eye and good skills to help me get through. You help me, I pay you and we go our separate ways."

"And then renew your chase for Hawke."

Leliana looks way. "This goes beyond the Champion's involvement, Isabela. There are... forces beyond our control."

Isabela remembers the last time Leliana gave them a warning. Hell, maybe if the Grand Cleric had followed on it, this whole mess wouldn't have happened. Maybe. She looks at the bard and shrugs.

"Alright. I'll do it."

Two fantastic rogues sneaking in and stealing something from under the Orlesian's powdered noses. What could possibly go wrong?

 

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. Now.**

Everything that could have gone wrong has gone wrong.

Their boots barely make any nose as they crouch and try to sneak pass the next entrance. They listen carefully – not only their new buddy is hiding somewhere nearby but even if they found a way out, guards are likely to be waiting for them.

Isabela thinks of something and she gestures at Leliana to stop.

"I have an idea."

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. Two hours ago.**

After two hours of pretending to find the Comte’s filthy jokes amusing, Isabela is more than ready to make a gateway, especially after the Comte’s younger brother, the drunken man that tried to dance with Leliana earlier, joins the conversation and stars talking about his many business enterprises and all that money he has and no one to spend it on. Isabela decides she might have to learn where this man lives to pay a visit later and help him get rid of some of those riches.

Eventually they manage to slip away, but not before Leliana steals a dance – and a set of keys – from the Comte. They’re enough to get them into the house, and though a series of doors, but not into the room they need. Not that they have a problem with that.

"Locked doors are for the lazy," Isabela murmurs sometime later as she finishes with the locks.

"And certain rogues," Leliana adds, keeping an eye on the hallway.

"Oh yes," Isabela said with a smile. "Saw him not long ago."

"Still unable to pick locks?"

"He has others many wonderful talents."

"Which don't include locks."

"Of course not."

Isabela stands and carefully pushes the door open. They slip inside and quickly close the door behind them. They have at least an hour before the guards do their rounds outside according to Leliana. Plenty of time to make it through the room and then out.

Even with the elaborate decoration and dim lights, Isabela can make out a couple of places where someone might attempt to conceal traps. She moves towards a nearby bookcase, her fingertips hovering above the elaborate carvings on the sides. She counts the number of flowers, looks for patterns until she notices an extra petal on what looks like a marigold. She glances at Leliana, who is standing on the other side of the room by a table. The bard points at a similar flower motif on the table.

Of course.

With a nod they both put pressure on the stray petals. There's a click and then silence. They step further into the room, checking for traps as they go. A couple of interesting trinkets find their way into Isabela's pockets (She's been lied to! She deserves to be compensated!) and by the time they reach the far wall, she is almost certain she could get another vessel with this kind of booty. One glance at the treasures carefully arranged on beautifully ornate cabinets and she almost gasps. Nevermind a vessel, she could afford a whole army by selling all these things!

As if reading her thoughts, Leliana gives her a hard stare. "Don't even think about it."

Isabela pouts. "You're no fun."

"I am plenty of fun. I didn't say anything about the other things you've picked, but they will notice something missing from here faster." She points at the wall, her smile returning when she spies a small golden box inside one of the cabinets. It looks expensive but nowhere near as fancy as most of the things in the room. But is clearly valuable enough for someone. Together they check the cabinet for traps and after disabling them - all three of them - Leliana reaches inside a hidden pocket of her gown and pulls out a box just like the one they're about to take as Isabela opens the cabinet.

Please, don't be a Qunari relic, Isabela thinks as she watches Leliana do the switch. 

"This will do," Leliana says, closing the cabinet door and making the real box disappear in the folds of her dress. "Now we move back, arming the traps again so..."

She stops and glances at the door. She doesn't have to say anything for Leliana has heard it too - approaching footsteps.

They move fast, examining their surroundings once again. The room has no windows and only one door. But Isabela is confident in the Orlesian habit of secret doors in the unlikeliest of places. And so is Leliana, who soon is gesturing at Isabela to join her by a tapestry she has lifted to reveal the not quite shocking hidden door.

A few feet away from them, the footsteps are getting closer to the real door so they work quickly in unlocking it and slipping inside. 

 

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. 1 hour ago.**

They end up in a barely lit hallway. After examining a nearby torch, Leliana pulls it out of its sconce and leads the way. Eventually they reach a flight of stairs heading down. Isabela rolls her eyes. Unless it's treasure or wine, nothing good ever comes from cellars. She hopes it's not a torture chamber at least.

Of course that is too much to ask for. The torture chamber is the first place the find, albeit at least empty. But clearly used often.

“Something’s not right,” Leliana says as she moves close to a rack. “The Comte is a man of unsavory habits, but nothing like this.”

“It’s always the least likely ones,” Isabela says. “Let’s see what’s behind the next door and hope for the best.”

The next door takes them to a round chamber with three more doors. They do find a (well locked that takes three tries to open) wine cellar and an (easily unlocked) armory behind the first two doors. Even if they're in a hurry to find their way out, Isabela cannot help but examine some of the weapons with interest. Excellent craftsmanship, perhaps a little too good to be kept in a cellar.

"You'd think they would try to keep their weapons better locked than their wine, considering their current roster," Isabela says as she kneels to have a better look at a greatsword. The blade is completely black, the hilt beautifully carved and just by looking at it Isabela thinks she might get cut. Too bad it looks heavy or she would take it back to Fenris. 

"Unless there is something here they must keep heavily guard,” Leliana says.

They both glance in the direction of the last door.

"What are the odds of it being a mountain of treasure?" Isabela asks.

"Only one way to find out," Leliana replies. She looks up. “This should take us to the other side of the gardens, near the maze. If we can reach the stables before anyone notices anything amiss…”

She starts heading out but stops before turning towards the weapons again. After a few seconds she picks up and bow and a matching quiver. Getting out quietly is becoming less on an option as time passes but it's not like they have any other choice. It's only a matter of time before whoever's upstairs discovers the disabled traps if they haven't already. Isabela reaches under her sleeves and pulls out two of her daggers. Then puts them back on and picks up a set from a nearby rack. Leliana raises a delicate eyebrow but says nothing.

They approach the third door and Isabela takes out her lockpicks before kneeling in front of it. It's larger than the others, made of strong, thick wood and the locks are quite challenging. She wastes no time opening the door once the last lock is undone.

Sure enough, there is a door there, a large door that probably leads outside.

They just have to make it past the large, sleeping ogre in the middle of the room.

"You're shitting me," Isabela whispers. Even so Leliana gives her a look and presses a finger to her lips. She points at the floor and Isabela squints. There is a very fine line drawn in a circle around the creature. The smell reminds her a little of Merrill and Anders, of the many times she would walk on one of them mixing herbs for different reasons. She takes one more look at the ogre and notices for the first time that there are no chains binding it.

With a silent nod they start moving, but even as they make no sound, Isabela is already plotting all the things she’s going to tell Leliana if they make it out of this alive. An Ogre? Really? And she thought Duke Prosper had a dangerous pet - and at least they had managed to slow down that one by tampering its food. When was the last time this had anything to eat?

“No catch she said,” Isabela whispers.

“Hush now. We need to make it to the door before it wakes.

“And what it does? Shall we set it on fire?”

“Not unless you stole a tinderbox as well.”

“Right, because you expected me to go through a rich Orlesian property without taking a few things.”

“The idea is to not draw too much attention to ourselves.”

“That might be a little harder now.”

“Only if we don’t…”

The sound of footsteps quiets them. They look towards the door they just came through, then to the door they need to reach, then at each other. They resume their moving without another sound.

Just a few more feet. They can make it that far as long as nothing else happens on their away there, as long as they don't step anywhere near that blasted circle, as long as those footsteps they are starting to hear don't get any closer until they're at least by the door.

As luck would have it, Isabela is almost done unlocking the large door when the guards walk in. Leliana raises her bow and takes down two of them just as Isabela finishes with the lock and starts opening the door.

But there are too many of them and one is in such a rush to get to them that just runs directly towards the women - by stepping inside the circle. 

And it all goes downhill from there.

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. 10 minutes ago.**

 

Whatever hope they have of a quiet clean gateway dies when the ogre smashes through the door they had just left a few feet away. The soldiers are nowhere to seen, clearly trying to find a path through them away from the ogre. The creature in the meantime has seen to lost track of them and heads towards the maze. 

“RUN!” Leliana says. Isabela doesn’t have to be told twice.

* * *

**Château Le Touzé. Now.**

 

They split. Isabela runs towards the growling sounds, hoping this plan works. She can already hear the guards getting closer, then Leliana's seductive "Gentlemen" followed by shouting from the guards. Good, she has done her part. Now is time for Isabela to do hers.

She turns a corner and sure enough, there is the ogre. Isabela puts her thumb and index fingers in her mouth and lets out a loud whistle. She doesn't want for the ogre to turn before heading back, the creature running dangerously close behind. She can hear the guards getting closer and she slows down just long enough for a pair of arms to reach behind a shrubbery and pull her towards them. Luckily by then the guards are on sight of the ogre and he forgets about Isabela to focus on the new prey. The guards are fast though, quickly dropping their weapons and running off in the opposite direction.

“As soon as we’re out, I need ten seconds to take it down,” Leliana warns. “I’ve seen what these things can do and will not risk one loose on the streets on the Orlais.”

“Fine with me,” Isabela says. “Just kill it fast.”

The girls give themselves ten seconds to catch their breath and try to ignore how close they stand to each other before heading out. 

* * *

The man comes into sight just as Isabela and Leliana are ready to escape, having climbed into the tallest statue and sent rope and arrow flying to the nearest tower. Isabela recognizes him as Comte’s. He looks a lot more sober now; the large crossbow in his arms is a rather nice touch too. He and Leliana aim their weapons at each other.

Soldiers can be seen and heard running in all directions. They’re impossibly fast as they climb walls and run into the stables to get away from the loose ogre on the prowl.

"Evening, ladies," he says. "I'm afraid I cannot let you go until you return what you've stolen. I am however thankful for your interruption. Surely you are to blame for my brother’s tragic demise in his collector room."

So not the Comte’s torture chamber. Leliana looks impressed even as she keeps an arrow aimed between the man’s eyes.

Leliana doesn't move so it's up to Isabela to reach into the dress and pull out the box.

"This little thing?" she says as she bounces it in her palm, as if it was worth nothing. Before the man can reply she throws it as far as she can. It lands beautifully at the feet of the approaching ogre.

Even in his panic, the Comte’s brother manages to put a few bolts on the thing before dropping the weapon and running for his life. As Isabela tests the rope, Leliana shoots a few more arrows, taking the creature down for good. She shoots two more into the man’s leg and his screams can be heard even as they reach the top of the tower.

* * *

The guards on this room seemed to have gone in a hurry as well, leaving heavy armor and weapons behind, including a very nice greatsword Isabela picks.

“It’s a present,” she tells Leliana before the bard can say anything. Then adds. "I'm sorry about the box,"

Leliana looks away.

"I guess it couldn't be helped.” She turns around. “I suppose you’ll be handing over what you took from it before throwing it away now?”

Isabela narrows her eyes, but pulls a thin gold cylinder from one of her pockets. “How did you know?”

“I could hear fiddling with it before throwing it away. How did you know I was after what was inside?”

"Please! That fake box you used? Clearly worth a small fortune, perhaps even more than the one you were taking. It had to be something inside the box. Palming it off while the two of you were busy trying not to kill each other was the easiest part."

"Well, thank you. You have no idea of the service you've done to Thedas."

Isabela may not know exactly, but she can imagine. She is no good with ciphers, but based on what little she saw of that thing, she can only imagine indeed."

Leliana looks at the window they used to enter the tower. “I shall return and pick up the Comte’s brother. He has a lot to answer for and information we might need.”

“Is that why you let him live?”

Leliana shrugs. Isabela laughs.

"I guess this is the part where we part ways and hopefully we don't try to kill each other. Because I would win."

Leliana laughs. "Of course you'd believe that." her expression turns serious before continuing. "I assure you we mean no harm to the Champion or her friends. We just seek..."

"The truth. I know. But whatever I do or say, you will always believe Hawke was at fault when the story is more complicated."

"So I heard."

Isabela rests her back against the nearest wall. “Too bad you have to return though. I was seriously thinking inviting you to my ship so we could continue the truce in a more invigorating way.”

“Ooh, tempting, but I really must return.”

“Perhaps another time.”

“Perhaps. And here.” She takes a small pouch from somewhere in her gown and places it on the table. “Your payment On top of the loot that is.”

Before Isabela can say anything Leliana heads back to the window, then turns. "You really don't know where the champion is?" 

Isabela shakes her head. "And no offense, but I hope you seekers never find her."

"Only time will tell," is all Leliana says. "But no matter your thoughts on the subject, you are a friend of the Champion and your participation in the events mean you'll never be just a passive observer. I can promise you I meant you no harm, but as for finding the Champion... we'll see." Whether she is agreeing with Isabela or not, the pirate would rather not think of it. Instead, they shake hands before heading their separate ways.

* * *

All things considered, this is as happy as an ending as they can get - the coin plus the couple of relics she palmed in the Château are enough t get the Siren's Call back on the sea a full week ahead of schedule. Isabela orders the men to set sail to Antiva just as she promised and even Fenris receives the news with a certain amount of enthusiasm - though he receives the sword with even more enthusiasm. 

They spent two carefree weeks on Antiva before resuming their raiding. They stay clear of Orlais for a while and it takes Isabela a while to give Fenris the full story – which she only tells him so he can hear about the lack of Qunari in it and pay the bet.  
Still, she'd rather not talk more about it, and her avoidance works for a while. Until...

* * *

**A tavern in Gwaren. Six months later.**

 

"We need to stop meeting like this," Isabela says as Leliana takes a seat across from her pushes the hood away. Her red hair is longer but she looks otherwise unchanged. One could say she was looking younger, lucky her.

"My apologies for interrupting your meal," she says. "But when I heard your ship had docked here I thought I’d drop by.”

"Let me guess - I am banned from Orlais from life."

"Nothing so drastic. As far as they know, it was all the doing of the Comte’s brother.

Isabela says it all. "Oh the Orlesians."

Leliana smiles. "Indeed, but I'm here on a mission and could use some help."

“Is it going to be as the last time?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Isabela thinks of the traps, the armed guards, of almost being squashed by an ogre. 

“Are the Qunari or their relics involved in any way?”

Leliana shakes her head.

“Then I’m in. What’s the story?”

Leliana leans forward and smiles. “Actually, I remember you offering me to continue this truce in a more… what were your words? Invigorating way.

Isabela smiles back. “It’s be the best of way.”


End file.
